


Bowleg Cowboy

by Bodysnatcherr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 16:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17369477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bodysnatcherr/pseuds/Bodysnatcherr
Summary: Sometimes it's the small things in life that are most difficult to deal with. Dean never thought it would have been his legs though.





	Bowleg Cowboy

Most of the time Castiel was very good at ignoring the two brothers bickering and arguing, but a certain word that he wasn't too sure of the meaning was spoken and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. 

"Bowlegs?" Cas questioned, his voice low and soft. 

"Yeah, Dean is bowlegged, Cas. You can't tell me you've never noticed how he always looks like he's got something, ya know, rammed up his ass." Sam rambled, small chipped mug of coffee shoved to his lips muffling his words.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, soles of his shoes crunching down dirt ridden maroon carpet, it seemed the maid at the hotel they had been staying at either forgot to vacuum for six years or they simply didn't have a maid. But no amount of dirt and filth was causing Dean to ignore what his brother had said, "I don't walk like I have something shoved up my ass, Sam. It's not like I wanted to be bowlegged, lay off it, alright?"

With a calculated glance from brother to brother, Castiel couldn't quite figure out what was happening, there were many things in his life that Castiel understood to vast expanses, but human emotion and embarrassment weren't two of them. "I'm, I'm sorry, Dean. I still don't understand."

Rolling his eyes, Dean grunted as he flopped down onto the squeaky mattress, "I'm bowlegged, no big deal. My legs bend a little weird, alright? Now shut up."

Head tilting to the side, Cas squinted, "But why?"

Sam piped up before Dean could even process the question, "Crooked legs over there used to ride horses, thus the bowlegs."

"So...horses give you bowlegs? Why don't more people have this...condition, then? It seems like it would be a common ocur-" Cas was cut short by Dean, a long groan escaping his lips, "No, Cas. It just happens over time, I guess. I don't know."

"Oh." Cas began, eyes trailing over to examine Dean's legs that were on display from the basketball shorts he was adorning, "Your legs look nice to me, but if it hurts I can fix it for you, Dean. I don't mind at all." 

With a shake of his head, Dean frowned, trying his best to ignore Castiel's compliment, "No, Cas, it doesn't hurt. I don't even notice it. It's just how my legs are. Can we drop it now?"

"If it upsets you to this level maybe we should talk about it." Cas offered as he tried to meet Dean's gaze, but to no avail.

"Cas, I'm not having an Oprah moment with you. I have bowlegs, it's not a big deal. I'm not going to go drown my sorrows in Haagen Das about my legs, for Christ's sake. If I want to get all chick flickified I'll turn on Lifetime, alright?" Ranted Dean, lips drew into a tight line as he unloaded the gun he had sat on the night side table. 

"Dean, I don't think it's healthy to keep emotio-"

"Cas! Fucking drop it, damn!" Dean quipped, fingers squeezing tightly around the barrel of his gun, cleaning cloth crumpled in his other hand. 

Clapping his hands, Sam stood up quickly, "On this happy note, I'm gonna go get food. You want anything, Dean?"

Without hesitation, Dean grumbled out, "Bacon burger," without even glancing up from the fixated spot on the sheets he'd been boring holes into. 

Exiting as quickly as he could, Sam gave Cas a small smile, silently wishing him luck.

Edging his way closer to the bed Dean was sitting on, Cas spoke gently, voice barely above a whisper, "Dean, I've seen your body inside and out. I'm sorry I never took notice of your...legs before." He hesitated, trying to find the right words.

Sighing, Dean sat his half cleaned gun back down, "Cas, please. My legs are fine. They work. They've carried your ass around before, they're not...bad, they're just...just bent a bit." He tried to joke, but in the back of his mind, Castiel noticing his legs now made him extremely self-conscious. 

"Dean, allow me to fix them. It won't hurt, you won't feel any ounce of pain." Cas offered, body tettering closer to the man in front of him. 

"No, don't you dare touch my legs. They're fine. I'm fine. Alright? You don't have to try and fix everything. There's literally nothing even to fix, alright?" Rushed Dean, legs tucked up under himself, making him feel like a preschooler getting ready for story time.

Castiel didn't understand why Dean was reacting to his, what he thought was a generous and kind offer, with such anger. In Cas' brain it was everyone's wish to be normal, especially boys such as the Winchesters, "I apologize, I just thought that you would like for your legs to be considered normal. I-I know how much you crave normality in your life and how much it devastates you that you aren't able to have it."

"Don't think for one minute that you know what the hell I want, Castiel. You're not human, you don't know what any of this is like. You don't know shit about how I feel. Just shut the fuck up." Dean snapped, jaw clenching and eyes locked onto Cas'.

Calmly Castiel sat up straighter, eyes never leaving Dean's, "I know more than you think I do, Dean Winchester. I know that you're terrified of dying, scared that you will be taken back to Hell. I know that you wish more than anything that you and Sam could just rid all of this from your memories and go back to Kansas and live a happy, full life. I know that you don-"

Dean tried his best to cut Castiel's words off, but the only result it brought him was Cas raising his voice and continuing on, "I know that every single day you wish you had been born into a different family, into a different life. You don't want the memories of Hell, the memories of Sam being without his soul, Sam being a vessel. You don't want the hurt that plagues your life, Dean and I understand. You think I don't, but I do."

"Cas, it's not about the memories I want to forget, it's the ones I want to remember." Mumbled Dean, voice quiet, "Cas, my legs, as dumb as it sounds make me remember that I used to just be a kid. That I used to be able to do something that I actually enjoyed. I could just saddle up and ride. I didn't have to worry about anything and I miss that more than anything." 

Cas' face softened as the words filtered in his ears, "You really enjoyed riding horses?"

"Yeah, wanted to own a farm." Admitted Dean, a small laugh emitting his lungs, "I always thought of my future and I never saw any of this. I saw rows of corn, bails of hay, pigs, horses, you know, the whole shebang. Sheering sheep and all that shit. Not this, not hunting demons and trying to fix everyone else's mistakes. I didn't want any of this, Cas. I still don't."

It was the honesty and sincerity that made Castiel smile, a full-on teeth-baring smile, "I wish that you could have that, Dean. But there are things we must do before that dream can be a reality, but I promise you when this is all over I will personally build you a...farm house?"

Lips and brain struggled to find a suitable sentence to retaliate with, Dean just settled for pulling Cas into an awkward hug as the bed dipped low between them, their knees rubbing together. "You and Sam, you can both help me with the sheep. We can all have a normal life. And all of this, all of this bullshit will just be the past and we'll never have to worry about it again. We'll just forget it ever happened, yeah?" Dean spoke, voice threatening to crack with each syllable that was muttered into Castiel's hairline.

With a curt nod of his head, Cas' hands rested on Dean's shoulder blades, fingers rubbing gentle as he whispered, "Of course, Dean. Anything you wish."

A silence settled on the pair, Dean's fingers wound in the fabric of Cas' coat. With a bit of hesitation, Cas brought his lips to the side of Dean's head, placing a chaste kiss to the shaved hair right above his ear.

Castiel felt Dean sink further into him, felt his body relaxing, "Cas, why are you doing that?"

"I've seen it before. When someone is upset, you're supposed to comfort them."

"...and your definition of comfort involves kissing said upset person?" Questioned Dean, head lifting off of Castiel's shoulder just enough to search his face for any sign or hint of emotion that he could properly read because right now Dean was confused and unsure.

"Yes, that's what happened in Titanic."

Dean barks a laugh unexpectedly, "You've watched Titanic. I don't believe that."

Pulling himself back from Dean a few inches he looked down at him, "Yes, I found it to be a beautiful, inspiring story."

"Cas, the whole movie was about rich people living and the poor dying." 

"Not exactly. Sometimes even in great tragedy, there is a broader picture that needs to be seen." 

The two stayed silent, Dean stroking a thumb over Cas' stubble ridden cheek. Dean supposed that this man was right, that there was always a bigger picture to events and if he looked closely enough he would see that he had found love in such a strange place in his life.

"Thank you, Castiel." Whispered Dean, lips ghosting over Cas' before pressing the smallest of kisses to the corner of his mouth, "Thank you for everything."

A flush rose in his cheeks and Castiel nodded, hiding a smile, "You're welcome, cowboy."

**Author's Note:**

> Dumb little fic.
> 
> xo s.
> 
> [Tumblr Page.](https://bodysnatcherr.tumblr.com)


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